


First Impression

by AntarcticBird



Series: Collide [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntarcticBird/pseuds/AntarcticBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's his first week in New York and it's as much fun as he hoped it would be. Maybe even more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Impression

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Pace](mailroomorder.tumblr.com) for being the best and most patient beta in the world. This little thing might turn into a 'verse eventually. it can stand on its own, but I'm definitely planning to write more.
> 
> Warnings: Age gap (Blaine is 18, Kurt is 25), teacher/student relationship

He first sees the guy when he’s on his way to the bar to get another drink - bless his fake ID he’s been carrying around ever since Sebastian gave it to him two years ago.

Blaine has to stop for a second to just stare because he’s the most beautiful man Blaine has ever seen in his life: tall, but not too tall, the most handsome face in the world, clothes that look painted on and long limbs that move so elegantly as he dances.

Someone bumps into him from behind and Blaine looks over his shoulder, muttering apologies for blocking the way, and gets his feet to move again. He needs a drink.

He orders a beer, drinks it by the bar, eyes glued to the gorgeous stranger who’s still dancing a few feet away and who still looks amazing.

_Courage_ , Blaine tells himself, quickly downing his beer and setting the bottle down on the counter. He came here tonight to be adventurous.

With a few quick strides he’s on the dance floor and moving, swaying to the beat and inching closer to the beautiful stranger through the mass of bodies. What’s the worst that can happen, right? He just wants to see him up close. If he’s not interested then Blaine will find someone else.

He really hopes he’s interested.

Blaine watches him, waiting until he twists away from the latest guy dancing close to him before he swoops in, moving closer in a way that he hopes is obvious enough. He’s had enough practice at Scandals, but this is New York. Maybe it’s different here.

It isn’t.

The man sees him and smiles. He looks older than Blaine, but not by much - maybe a senior or a grad student. Blaine smiles back, keeps dancing, keeps looking. And then they’re dancing together and Blaine can’t help the grin spreading across his face. They’re still several inches apart, but their eyes lock and the man smiles back at him in a way that can only be meant seductively (or so Blaine hopes), and it’s awesome. This is going well.

It keeps going well, too. Other guys try to squeeze between them, but Blaine always manages to cut them off and stay close to the guy, until they’re pretty much pressed together. Blaine takes a deep breath, reaches out to place his hands on the guy’s hips, mentally high-fiving himself when the man raises his arms to wrap them around Blaine’s shoulders. This is going _really_ well.

He loses count of how many songs they dance through, the beat-heavy dance music blurring one song into the next until he can’t tell them apart anymore. He’s starting to feel thirsty again, but no way is he giving up his spot. So he’s relieved when the guy leans forward, mouth close to Blaine’s ear, and says over the sound of the music, “I need a drink.”

Blaine pulls back enough so that he can nod at him, motioning towards the bar before grabbing his hand, pulling him along behind.

They wait their turn, smiling at each other occasionally, and Blaine can’t help but feel proud. This might actually be going somewhere. “What do you want?” he asks, leaning in close so the guy can hear him. “I’m buying.”

“I can pay for my own drink,” he answers, like it’s not a big deal, but Blaine shakes his head.

“It’s on me,” he insists.

The man rolls his eyes, smiling. “Just a beer.”

Blaine orders two beers, hands one to his handsome stranger. “I’m Blaine,” he shouts over the club’s sound system.

“Kurt,” the man answers, and they clink their bottles together before each taking a swig.

They drink in silence for a while, until Kurt catches his eye, nods toward the dance floor, and Blaine hurries to follow after him.

**

As soon as the door closes behind them, Kurt has him pinned against it, kissing him hungrily, bodies pressing together from chest to thighs.

“Bed,” Blaine gasps in between kisses and Kurt’s lips slide down to bite at his neck.

“Yes,” he agrees, voice rough. “Yes, yes, okay.”

They discard their shoes on the way, hands roaming and mouths biting and kissing everywhere, and Blaine is so turned on he can hardly think.

Suddenly he’s glad to have a hotel room at his disposal - a graduation gift from Cooper who had insisted Blaine needed a week in the city to just be a tourist before moving into his dorm. Blaine is sure that dorms don’t have nice, comfortable, fluffy queen-size beds. His hotel room does, though, and the sheets are soft under his skin when Kurt pushes him down onto the mattress.

His shirt is already gone - he isn’t entirely sure when that happened - and he watches Kurt quickly discarding his own before climbing onto the bed and settling on top of Blaine, legs tangling as their lips meet again.

The kiss is hungry from the start; an entire night of dancing and touching and, eventually, grinding, has left them with very little patience.

Kurt’s skin is warm against his, soft dusting of freckles spreading down his neck and across his shoulders all the way to his nicely toned chest. He has his fingers in Blaine’s carefully styled curls, angling his head so he can kiss him better, and Blaine moans into it, rocks up against Kurt’s thigh impatiently.

“Pants,” he breathes. “We should take them off.”

“In a minute,” Kurt answers, voice low and gravelly against Blaine’s lips, rolling his hips down rhythmically a few times until they’re both completely hard, trailing kisses over Blaine’s jaw and down his neck.

It feels undeniably wonderful, but Blaine has had only the company of his own hand ever since he broke up with Sebastian (not counting that one night after Scandals, which Blaine doesn’t, because it wasn’t very memorable). He can’t wait any longer.

So he holds onto Kurt’s hips, rolls them over so he’s on top and starts attacking the buttons of Kurt’s skin-tight jeans.

Kurt laughs underneath him, his flat stomach jumping with the sounds. “Oh, okay,” he says. “You’re impatient.”

Blaine grins down at him, finally succeeding in popping open the first button. “It’s been a long night,” he answers.

“It’s not over yet,” Kurt replies, and reaches for him to pull him down into another kiss.

Between the two of them, they manage to get Kurt out of his pants and Blaine loses no time in getting rid of his own as well, flinging them across the room carelessly.

He barely has the time to take in Kurt’s naked body, stretched out against the white sheets, before he’s being pushed onto his back again, Kurt’s mouth trailing a path down his chest, licking across a nipple on the way. Blaine hisses and arches up, causing Kurt to smile and lean back in to repeat the action.

“You like that?” he asks, sucking the nipple into his mouth before breathing cool air over the spot.

In response, Blaine cards his fingers through Kurt’s hair and pulls him up again to kiss him. “Obviously,” he answers, before flipping them once more, legs tangling in the sheets as they reposition themselves.

He kicks himself free, silences Kurt’s giggles by settling between his legs and angling himself down to trap their erections between their bodies.

“Fuck,” Kurt gasps eloquently, and it’s Blaine’s turn to laugh, even if it comes out breathy and high.

“Yeah,” he says, and begins to move, small rocking movements, hardly enough but still so good.

Kurt wraps his legs around him, pulls him in closer. “Like this, come on -”

Blaine groans, wanting to draw this out, but it feels like he’s been hard for hours and the pressure just feels too amazing. So he complies, pressing down harder, sliding his hands under Kurt’s shoulders for better leverage. “Okay.”

They keep rocking together, and god, Kurt is gorgeous: pale skin flushed and his eyes squeezing shut whenever Blaine does something he particularly seems to like and Blaine thinks - can he ask for this?

His hips stutter and Kurt opens his eyes, soft blue-green in the light of the room, and blinks up at him questioningly.

“Wait -” Blaine swallows, still moving with shallow little rolls of his hips because he can’t stop altogether, he can’t, but - “I want - can we -”

Kurt’s hands run up his back, making him shiver. “What?” he asks.

“Fuck me?” Blaine asks, and Kurt nods eagerly.

“Yes. Yes, okay, _yes_...”

Blaine thanks his optimistic, over-organized mind for the lube and condoms he’d stashed in the bedside table at the beginning of the week. He retrieves the items, shoving them at Kurt before flopping down onto his stomach, eager and ecstatically restless with anticipation. He _wants_ this so badly, just wants to be _fucked_ , he needs it.

Kurt stretches him carefully, laughing at him when he begs him to hurry up, but his laugh is a little shaky. They’ve both been on edge for too long.

As soon as he’s ready, he wiggles out from underneath Kurt and makes him roll over, climbs on top of him. He knows as he lowers himself onto Kurt’s dick that it’s not going to take long, but that’s okay, it already feels amazing.

Kurt is perfect and _hot_ and beautiful and Blaine has to move as soon as he has him all the way inside, bracing his hands on Kurt’s chest and riding him, falling into a slow yet urgent rhythm.

It’s been so long since he’s had anything other than his own fingers inside of him and this is _so much better_ \- the shape and the size of Kurt’s cock and the way it’s stretching him, the way he can feel it so deep inside every time he sinks all the way down. He shifts on top of Kurt until he finds just the right angle and his body _jolts_ with the intense little bursts of pleasure, it’s _incredible_.

He’s already close, forcing himself to not go too fast, he wants just a little more, a little more -

But then Kurt’s hand closes around his cock and starts jerking him off and he just … can’t. Can’t hold back, can’t keep his head from falling back as his toes curl inward, can’t stop the loud moan that rips from his throat. “ _Oh, oh god, oh fuck_ -”

Kurt thrusts up into him, once, twice, and Blaine comes with a strangled cry, mouth falling open and fingers digging into Kurt’s shoulders as every muscle in his body clenches with the sharp, white-hot bliss of release.

Through the haze of his own orgasm he can feel Kurt’s hands grabbing his hips, pushing up hard one more time as he comes as well and Blaine can _see it hear it feel it_ before he collapses on top of him, sweaty and spent and happy.

**

He gives himself a few seconds, waiting for his breath to slow before he moves off Kurt’s dick, slides to the side, instinctively reaching for the box of tissues on the night stand. At the last second he remembers his manners through the afterglow and offers the box to Kurt first, who grabs a few to clean himself up.

“Thanks,” he says, voice breathy and rough from orgasm, smiling at Blaine and even though Blaine’s body is still buzzing with aftershocks, he can feel his body reacting to that smile, to the post-sex flush on Kurt’s skin. It’s sexy as hell, and really, he’s so lucky; this has been the _best_ night.

“No, thank _you_ ,” Blaine answers, mind still reeling a bit as he starts to clean the cooling come off of himself. “Seriously. That was _great_.”

Kurt yawns, lifting the dirty tissues with a questioning glance until Blaine points to the trash can next to the night stand. “It was.” He drops back against the pillow, stretching his legs out and blinks up at Blaine. “Do you mind if I - just for a minute -”

Blaine understands, drops down next to Kurt and starts pulling the sheets free from underneath them. “Sure,” he says. “You can just sleep here, if you want - it’s a big bed.”

Kurt laughs, takes a look around the room like he’s seeing it for the first time (which he probably is - they _had_ been a bit preoccupied earlier). “Not from New York, are you?”

Blaine shakes his head. “Nope. But I’m staying. Moving into my new place tomorrow. This hotel room was just my brother’s idea.”

“That’s nice,” Kurt mumbles, “Welcome to New York.” He’s already half asleep, and Blaine closes his eyes, slowly drifts off as well.

**

When Blaine wakes up, he’s alone. Judging by the light filtering through the blinds, it’s late morning, and he has to check out of the hotel by two in the afternoon, and then he’s moving into his dorm. So he should get up and take a shower and pack the few things that ended up scattered across the hotel room, but instead he rolls over onto his back, stares up at the ceiling.

He is just a bit disappointed to be waking up alone, but it doesn’t change the fact that he had a lot of fun last night.

It’s not like he hadn’t hoped to find “opportunities” in New York eventually. He just hadn’t expected for it to happen so quickly. New York is _awesome_.

Because last night - last night had been amazing. Really and truly and mind-blowingly amazing.

So amazing that he’d been hoping to get Kurt’s number before he left, because holy shit does he want to do that again. With Kurt, if possible. He doesn’t really have a lot of experience with one night stands; after ending things with Sebastian he’s had one mutual handjob with a guy named Alex in his car in the parking lot behind Scandals. And they had both been too drunk to really enjoy it.

Not that that one weirdly unsatisfying experience had turned him off the idea completely - he wouldn’t have hooked up with Kurt last night had that been the case. He’s glad now, grateful for his adventurous spirit. He wouldn’t want to have missed last night for the world. And he’s looking forward to finding more opportunities like that. He’d just really been hoping for at least one more with Kurt. Even just morning sex; morning sex is nice.

But Kurt left and he has no idea where to find him - is pretty sure that Kurt probably doesn’t want to be found - and Blaine is leaving this hotel in a few hours to move into a dorm so unless Kurt happens to be a NYADA student, they will probably not run into each other again in a city as big as New York.

It makes him sad to think of it, but not for long, he’s too lazy and happy right now to feel sad. He feels grown up, free, adventurous and amazing. Also exhausted and a bit sore, but so, so _incredibly_ amazing.

**

His dorm room is actually nice. His roommate, who moves in two days later, is nice, too. Blaine takes one look around NYADA and decides he’s going to have the best time here. He’s worked hard to get in, he’s been looking forward to being here for a long time, and it’s going to be great.

He ventures out into New York one afternoon to meet up with Santana who moved to New York a few days ago. They have coffee while he tells her all about his successful first week, dodging the too inquisitive questions about his one night stand (Santana has always been far too invested in his sex life, and she’s used to hearing every detail - Sebastian had always liked to share).

He eventually even gets Cooper, who helped him move in, to stop hanging out on campus where he insists on handing out autographs and free acting advice.

**

His first class is Vocal Technique and he’s really looking forward to it. But then again he’s looking forward to all of his classes.

They’re a small group, but some of the faces already look familiar, people he’s met in the dining hall, the bookstore, and the dorm over the past few days he’s been here. A few chairs are pushed against the wall at the back of the room and Blaine sits down next to a short girl in a reindeer sweater and polka dot skirt, smiling his most friendly smile as he kicks his bag under the chair.

“Hi,” he greets.

She flips her hair back, beams back at him. “Hello,” she says, straightening the skirt over her knees and bouncing in her seat a little.

“So, this is kind of exciting, isn’t it?” Blaine asks, determined to make small talk.

“Well,” the girl replies. “I am definitely looking forward to working with Professor Hummel. That’s what I came here for, after all, to learn from the best.”

Blaine tilts his head at her. “So, he’s good?”

The girl gasps. “Good? You’re kidding, right? You haven’t heard about him? He was the understudy for Raoul in _Phantom_. On _Broadway_. And, okay, he only got to perform twice, but he was _spectacular_. I have the videos. I’ll email them to you if you want.”

“Um, thanks?” Blaine shrugs. “I mean. I’d appreciate it, yeah. Oh, my name’s Blaine,” he adds, smiling.

“Rachel Berry.” She offers her hand, shakes his energetically. “Nice to meet you. And be sure to give me your email address later.”

“Sure,” Blaine promises, a little overwhelmed by her enthusiasm.

“We’re lucky, I guess,” she continues. “How many students can say that they’ve been taught by a Tony Award winning teacher?”

Blaine stares. “Professor Hummel won a Tony?”

Rachel sighs. “Well, no, not _yet_. Obviously. But he will.”

“Oh, okay.” Blaine clears his throat, focuses toward the front of the classroom where the door has just opened. Their teacher, he assumes.

“That’s _him_ ,” Rachel whispers excitedly in his ear, leaning in close. “That’s Professor Hummel.”

Blaine sits there, frozen with the shock of recognition, eyes widening as he takes in the familiar face, the straight posture, the graceful movements, the elegantly styled hair, clear blue-green eyes scanning the students scattered around the room until they land on Blaine. Where they pause, for just a second, startled, before fluttering away, the smile on their teacher’s face face faltering for the briefest of moments.

He recognized him too, then. Well. They’ve seen - a _lot_ of each other. Pretty much everything there is to see, in fact.

“ _That’s_ Professor Hummel,” Blaine repeats, throat dry, undecided between joy, embarrassment, and the impulse to flee the room. “Professor _Kurt_ Hummel.”

He’s not sure what he feels at this moment. But it’s going to be an interesting semester, he’s sure of it.


End file.
